Scumbag
by BrodieBlue
Summary: Dean Ambrose needs to take out his frustrations on someone ... This is a little bit dark. Expect it to get very rough. As always, if you don't like that, then you know not to read.


**I wrote this for ILikeWhatILike. If you like this, then definitely check out her one shot.**

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This had to be the shittiest dive Alexa had ever took the open mic in. It was a good thing she hadn't quit her day job because her guitar case was empty. The fault was not hers though; the bar's classy clientele were all drunk by the look and sound of things.

"Thanks for listening," she sighed into the microphone then gathered her belongings and stepped off the stage, raising her long skirt carefully as she did.

"Want a hand doll?" some drunk ass fuck asked her and even reached out to try to touch her bare ankle.

"Fuck. Off." she said slowly through gritted teeth and it was enough to make him back off with his hands held up.

She really would have kicked him right in his red face if he hadn't. She wasn't sure what had put her in a foul mood. It wasn't tonight's poor reaction, she didn't do it for the money and applause; she did it because she enjoyed it. She went to the bar to take a night cap to calm herself down before she went on her merry way home.

"Can I have a double of your house whisky please?" she asked the bartender who looked surprised by her request, that just irritated her more. Girls should drink fruity cocktails right? Bullshit. But she put something in the tip jar anyway because she was nice like that.

She sat at the end of the bar, as far away from any drunken louts as possible and took small sips of her whisky. She could feel it working its magic already, after this she would be good to go in a much better mood. She looked at the door of the bar and watched the people who walked through with slight interest. She liked to people watch but nobody intriguing had caught her eye. She could immediately tell who the regulars were and who were not because heads would swivel whenever the door opened, but quickly turned back again when they saw a familiar face. But they all stared when a stranger walked through; she had been treated to the same welcome too. However, someone had just broken that rule. She just knew he wasn't a regular, but the dark glower on this face put off any stares. Heads swivelled away from him faster than they did from even the regulars. The only person who continued to stare at him was Alexa. How could she not? He definitely had a commanding presence. He looked young, but tired for his years. He was tall, quite broad and had messy sandy coloured hair. He was wearing a soft looking black leather jacket open over a white tank top and dark blue jeans too; a bit overdressed for the hot, sticky night. The closer he got to the bar the more her appreciation of him grew. He was really hot, not the handsomest dude she had ever clapped eyes on, but there was something about him.

He went to the solitary bartender who was at her end of the bar, putting glasses on shelves. He leaned his hands on the bar and waited for the bartender to notice him. As he did Alexa took the opportunity to openly check him out. He had a button nose which was shining at the tip and a heavy brow over light blue eyes. His gently slanting jaw was covered in messy stubble and he was sporting a stitched up cut on his chin. It didn't fail her notice that he could do with a shower too and her nostrils flared at the musky smell of him. To be honest, he was a bit of a mess.

"Whisky. Double, please. Triple if you will do it," he said when the bartender noticed his hulking form taking up a good section of the bar.

His voice was gruff to go with his gruff look. He had the type of voice you would want a man who looked like that to have.

"I can get you a double and a single in separate glasses, you will have to mix them yourself," the bartender answered after eyeing him suspiciously.

Alexa could see what was going through his mind.

"I'll get it," she said.

They both turned their heads to look at her in surprise. The man looked her up and down slowly, his mouth curved lasciviously and then he shrugged. Alexa would have usually considered such behaviour creepy, but she wanted him to notice her.

"I'm not used to chicks buying me drinks but if the lady insists," he drawled.

"I do."

She met his eyes and was struck by how startlingly blue the irises looked against the whites.

She forced herself to look away so that she could speak to the bartender.

"Don't worry about him, I'll watch him."

The bartender looked sceptical and his eyes travelled between the two like he didn't trust either one of them.

"Alright," he eventually said with resignation. "Same again?"

"Yes please. Double."

Alexa threw her money down and tipped more generously than she had last time. He was like her; he was just trying to get by in the world. All humans were.

"Look at me," the man then demanded when the bartender turned away to fulfil the order.

"What?"

That was rather rude ... but she obliged his wish.

He stared into her eyes for a moment before shaking his head with a look of wonder on his face.

"Jesus, you have beautiful eyes."

Alexa was used to being complimented on her pure green eyes. Not many people had eyes that were truly green like hers. It was usually nice hearing it, uncomfortable if the attention was unwanted. But it sounded great coming from that small, pink rosebud of a mouth.

"Thank you. You have nice eyes too," she replied.

He smirked at that.

"Hey, listen lady. I'm used to horny teenage girls trying to get stuck by me. How old are you? Are you even old enough to be here? I complimented you because I compliment where a compliment is due. Now thank you for the drink," the comment was well timed because the bartender then slipped his drink his way, "but lay off the sweet talk."

Alexa had to admit that she felt taken aback by his hostility, she wasn't used to being turned down by men, but she honestly hadn't been coming on to him. She wanted to, but she was way more subtle than that. Fuck subtlety now though. He hadn't put her off, if anything he had encouraged her attentions. She smiled sweetly at him.

"I'm more than old enough to drink, unfortunately. But I don't doubt that you attract young female admirers wherever you go."

He listened to her, taking a great swig from his tumbler. Fuck his hands were big; his hand covered the entire glass. Alexa noticed a scrapped knuckle on that particular hand too. He frowned at her over the top of his glass and made a loud 'ahh' sound when he slammed his glass down. He then took his jacket off to drape over his bar stool and sat on it. He revealed skin that was tanned and dewy, but that wasn't all. He looked like he worshipped the gym, this guy was jacked. His vest stretched tightly across his top heavy chest which tapered down to a slim waist. As for his arms ... they were perfection.

"I do. Looks like you're one of them," he said in a very self assured way. He glanced at his whisky that he had just put down, as if he wanted to take another swig. Then without much hesitation he picked it up again and put it to his lips.

"Take it easy," Alexa said.

He side eyed her darkly then brought the glass down from his lips without taking a sip. Keeping a tight grip on his glass he dragged his stool closer to her. Now he was merely inches away from her and when he opened his mouth he breathed his whisky breath in her face.

"You probably bought me this drink hoping that I would return the favour. Well, when you buy someone a drink you take a risk that maybe the recipient doesn't want to drink it with you. That they just aren't interested in you, okay? Back off and don't tell me how to drink _my _drink."

"Why are you so rude and angry?"

She wasn't intimidated. His behaviour was oddly familiar and comforting to her, like he was a kindred spirit.

He snorted and raised his glass to his lips again.

"Bad day at the office ..." he mumbled.

"Would another whisky loosen your tongue?"

"Wow you don't give up do you?" he asked with dramatically widened eyes.

Alexa shook her head.

"Aren't you afraid you'll get me drunk and get you and me kicked out? Or worse. Aint you afraid I'll get handsy and force myself on you? Actually no. What am I even talking about? I bet you'd like that. That's how you want this to go. Why else did you buy me a drink? That's the sluttiest move in a slut's arsenal..." he rambled.

"That's a rather ugly thing to say."

"I'm an ugly person."

"You are far from ugly."

That made him smile in a way that lit those frosty eyes.

"Why have you not thrown this fucking drink in my face yet?" he asked.

"I liked you as soon as I saw you walk through that door. I think you like me too. You'd have rejected my offer of a drink if you didn't."

"Like I said, I'm never one to turn a drink down."

"I don't remember you saying that."

"Whatever," he snapped, ending their back and forth abruptly.

He leaned back on his bar stool and looked at his drink in his hand as he swirled the ice cubes in the glass. Alexa allowed him to mull his thoughts over in his head, she knew he would come to the right decision eventually; she just had to play her cards right.

"Would you like to tell me about your tough day at the office? It certainly looks like you had a tough day, though not at an office," she said, with a warm, non judgemental smile.

"Observant," he replied. His tone was much more even now, though he still didn't smile.

"No, just not blind."

"Ah you got me!" he said sarcastically, "one of my best friends stabbed me in the back and now I'm trying to fuck him up. I haven't succeeded yet, but I will."

Alexa just nodded. He narrowed his eyes at her then turned himself fully on his stool to look at her face on.

"I can't believe you don't know," he said, shaking his head again. Then he laughed, which brought another smile and cherubic dimples to his face.

Why should she know?

"Is that how you got that scrape?" Alexa asked, casting her eyes over his chin.

"Nah, that was from another fight. I'm not sure. I can't remember. I have a lot of fights ..."

"You do you're talking with your hands huh?"

Alexa eyes wandered over his hands again. She wanted to see his palms open, she wanted to see if the pads of his fingers were rough and manly. She wanted to look at them for a long time and more. The flash in his eyes told her that he caught on to the double meaning of her words.

"Yeah, actions speak louder than words. I'm not afraid to get physical. I fucking love it. I thrive off violence."

Alexa could plainly see that.

"But you look like you went to the school of love and peace. Why aren't you wearing any shoes?" He said, looking down on her feet.

"I just prefer to walk around barefoot"

He made a harrumph sound then attacked her with another question.

"What? Is that some hippy shit? What's the deal with your bracelets too?"

"It's hippy shit."

She felt satisfied to see that she had got another smile out of him.

"You know what else is hippy?" she asked.

"What?"

"Free love."

He snorted.

"I think you're misunderstanding the meaning of free love darlin'. If you're expecting me to show that I like spreading my seed and I do, by fucking you, then you've misunderstood the free bit."

"And you completely misunderstand the entire concept of free love."

"Stop speaking in tongues. Let's find somewhere nice we can be alone. That's what you want isn't it?"

"Well ...I think _you_ need to let go of whatever is pent up inside of you."

he fixed her eyes on him again; she could see she'd made a crack in his shell.

"You know, I think your eyes can see into my soul," he said, almost wistfully.

"They can."

"Well? What are you waiting for? Hurry up before I change my mind," he said slowly and oh so quietly.

"I thought you'd be taking me somewhere. I don't have anywhere. Just a room at this hole."

She could afford to play it cool, she wasn't taking a risk; he would bite.

"That's good enough for me," he said, even faster than she thought he would.

"I expect you to be gone by morning."

"You'll wake up and I won't be around."

"Good."

Alexa pulled her sandals from her bag and picked up her guitar. She looked up at him and was met with his peculiar stare.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"What's your name?"

He looked like he doubted whether this was a good idea.

"Are you bottling it?"

"Babe, do you know who you're fucking talking too?"

"No."

"I'm Dean Ambrose. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"No."

Should it? He laughed and grinned widely, allowing Alexa a good look inside a mouth that she hoped he knew how to use to devastating effect.

"What's your name?"

"Alexa."

"That's a stripper's name. Come on. What's your real name?"

"What's it to you? I'll bet my bottom dollar Dean Ambrose isn't your real name."

Alexa then walked away from him without waiting for his reply, it was tempting to look over her shoulder to make sure that he followed her but if she showed a moment of uncertainty he would have the upper hand. Right now she was in control and that's how she wanted it. She heard a jog behind her then felt his big hand close around her bare upper arm when she was outside.

"Wait. I'm having a smoke," he said and pulled a battered box of cigarettes from his jacket that he had thrown back on. "Shit. Just one left."

"Have you been smoking a lot recently?" she asked.

"I guess," he then held it out to her after taking a long drag.

"Thanks."

She took it from his long, thick fingers and put it between her lips. He was watching her take a drag on the cigarette and when she pulled it from her lips she offered it back to him again, he took it and their fingertips touched. They spent the next minute or so silently finishing the cigarette together, each touch against each other's fingers lingering more and more when they passed it to one another. It was ridiculous, but at that time it felt like the most sexual charged moment Alexa had ever experienced with clothes on.

"Wanna finish it?" he asked when they were almost down to the stub.

"Nah, you have it."

He took the last puff, then as he was pulling it from his mouth he said, "watch this."

He dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out on the ground with the heel of his boot.

"That will be you. I mean it, I'm not fucking around. I'll chew you up and spit you out. Are you sure you wanna play little girl?"

He needed to take his frustrations out on someone, but she needed to take her frustrations out on someone too. She laughed in his face and he looked taken aback.

"I'll show you what this little girl is made of ... little boy," she said, giving him a look laced with disdain.

He laughed too, then smacked his palm against the side of his head a few times.

"Alright, alright. You're good Alexa. I like you. You better not disappoint me."

"I won't. Shut up now and follow me," she said, turning her back on him.

"Wait," he said again, grabbing her wrist this time. "I need to see those eyes again first ..."

"It's the eyes," he said. His grip on her wrist was tight and he was gazing down on her, into her eyes, but she didn't feel uncomfortable.

"It's always the eyes," she agreed.

He then let go of her wrist and followed her like a slave to where she was going, which was only up a flight of steps by the side of the building that led to her room for the night. She felt him shake the tinny steps as he lifted his heavy frame on to them, she held the door for him and he took it, their eyes met and he licked his bottom lip like he had become very thirsty. She put the key to her door and she saw his shadow approach her on the door, the darkness engulfing her much smaller form, before she felt him paw her ass.

"Won't you kiss me first?" he said.

He grabbed her ass now, gathering the material of her skirt and curving his fingers to press them against her pussy. His other hand went to her throat, he ran it up to her mouth and stroked her lips. She opened her mouth and licked the tip of his index finger, tasting that poisonous cigarette on him.

She made him grunt like an animal, then she took his index finger fully into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. She sucked his finger as he pressed his crotch against her, pushing her into the wood of the door and filling her nose with the thick smell of varnish. They stood like that for a moment, until Alexa pushed his hand away from her and unlocked the door ...


End file.
